


Compromise

by WriteReal



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Season 1 with relationship divergence, Slash, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteReal/pseuds/WriteReal
Summary: Starts in Season 1. Some chapters will follow an episode, some will not. Obviously AU with Archer/Tucker. This is the first slash fic I've ever written. I've honestly not read much slash, but stumbled on one with Jon and Trip and it really resonated with me. I never thought Trip and T'Pol worked. Opposites attract, but not that much. Trip and Jon's relationship was always really good, and I found them being together to be very believable. Then, I thought it wasn't just believable, it was damned sexy.
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Comments: 25
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> That infamous mutual dislike between Trip and T'Pol makes Jon's life hell. He's caught between his hot-headed husband and the glacial reproach of his Vulcan first officer. What's a captain to do?

Archer chewed his steak quietly lest the tense silence in the Captain’s Mess be aggravated by the sound of his chewing. Both T’Pol and Trip had their heads down, focused on their food. Archer had tried to break the ice several times and each time had failed more miserably than the time before.

He put down his fork and picked up his glass of wine. He needed wine for this meal, not his usual iced tea. A long sip of alcohol disappeared down his throat and along with it went the last of his patience. He put his glass down and glared first as T’Pol’s bent head and then Trip’s. He alternated his gaze from one to the other until they noticed that he wasn’t eating.

They both looked up at him quizzically, confusion writ across their faces, and that was the spark that lit the fire.

“This stops now,” he said, his command voice loud in the small room. He glared from one to the other. “You are my top two senior officers. I rely on you. Enterprise relies on you to work together civilly and do your duties.

“Cap’n!” Trip started and Archer slashed his hand to cut him off, which Trip thankfully understood.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Archer said. “I don’t care who said what, who implied what, who did what. We are all adults,” he looked pointedly at T’Pol, “some older than others, and we should all be able to find a way to work together.”

To his surprise and pleasure, T’Pol flushed and looked down. Score one for the Captain. He looked over at Trip who was glaring at T’Pol until he felt Jon’s eyes on him and then Trip looked down as well and sighed heavily.

“Yes, Sir,” Trip said quietly. He folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “I’m done. With your permission, I’ll head to my quarters.”

Jon nodded and Trip quickly made his exit. Archer turned back to his meal and found that he had no more appetite for it. Disgruntled, he pushed his plate away and resisted the urge to gulp the rest of the wine.

“My apologies, Captain,” T’Pol said in measured tones, although Jon swore he could hear a note of…regret? She raised her eyes to him. “You are correct in pointing out that I should be able to conduct myself as both a senior officer and an…older adult. I have not performed my duties adequately.”

Archer scowled at her. “If that is a preamble to you submitting your resignation, request denied.”

T’Pol’s eloquent, even loud, eyebrows rose. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had just surprised the Vulcan. He was pleased. Very pleased.  
“I understand,” T’Pol said. She, too, folded her napkin on the table and inclined her head to Jon. “I believe I will retire to my quarters to meditate.”

“Have a good evening,” Jon said. He raised his glass in a toast as she left the room. Then he slammed the wine and sighed heavily.

When Porthos, and only Porthos, greeted him in his quarters he was disappointed but not surprised. He wasn’t sure if T’Pol knew about the captain and the chief engineer, so she might not have caught Trip’s emphasis on “my quarters” upon leaving the Captain’s Mess, but Jon certainly had. 

He was in the doghouse with his husband. That had been happening far too often recently, which was why he had laid down the law tonight. This…friction, animosity, whatever it was, between Trip and T’Pol had to stop. It was affecting the whole crew, not the least of who was Jon himself. If he had to listen to one more diatribe from Trip about the evils of Sub Commander T’Pol, or another biting comment from T’Pol about the undisciplined habits of the engineer, he was going to scream. 

He fed Porthos, walked him, and then shucked his uniform and changed into a t-shirt and sweats. There were reports to be read, but he needed to unwind. He stretched out on his bed and pulled up the book he was reading on a PADD. Porthos cuddled up behind his knees, and Jon absently stroked the dog’s silky ears as he submerged himself into a mid 20th century Appalachia murder mystery.

He had only been reading for a few minutes when the door slid open and Trip strode in. Similarly dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, the look on Trip’s face was anything but casual. Trip stopped in front of the bed – their bed – and put his hands on his hips. Jon dropped his head for a moment, praying for patience, and then put the PADD down and sat up.

He looked up at the man he loved with everything in him. He knew every plane of that face, every emotion flaring in those blue eyes, every inch of that strong body. Most of all, he knew the fierce and tender heart and soul of the man he had made his life partner.

Jon reached out and took Trip’s right hand and squeezed it. He saw confusion flicker in Trip’s eyes. He was loaded for bear and ready for a fight. Well, Jon wasn’t going to give him one. At least not in the way he expected.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jon said softly, looking deeply into Trip’s eyes. “Both of you are constantly at me about each other. Night and day, on duty and off.” Guilt flashed in Trip’s eyes. T’Pol rarely spoke to the captain outside of her duties. Trip was the one bending his ear off-shift.

“I’ve tried to make peace between you. I’ve tried to figure out why the two of you can’t get past this personal..stuff, to help you come to an understanding, but nothing works. Short of throwing you in the brig together until you work this out, I don’t know what else to do.”

Trip rubbed his thumb over the back of Jon’s hand and collapsed on the bed next to his husband. 

“We’d kill each other,” Trip said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a near smile. “And she’d win. Vulcan strength and all.”

Jon chuckled softly. At least Trip was willing to admit that T’Pol was physically superior to him.

Trip leaned over and kissed Jon’s cheek and then pressed his forehead against Jon’s temple.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he whispered. “I don’t know why she sets me off like she does. I think I’m handling it fine and then she says or does somethin’ and before I know, I’ve blown my stack and made a bad situation worse.”

Jon wrapped his arms around Trip and turned his head and kissed the other man softly on the lips.

“I know you’ve tried. Hell, I know she’s tried. I’ve even asked Phlox about it, and he says you two just have to figure it out.”

Trip pulled back and little and frowned.

“You asked Phlox?”

Jon raised his hands in defense. “I was out of ideas. He has a degree in humanoid psychology. I thought he might have some insight.”

“And?” Trip asked, his eyebrow doing a good imitation of his nemesis.

Jon grinned. “Well, aside from him saying that you’re polar opposites on the personality scale, the only thing he could think of was either a past trauma that you had had with a Vulcan and her with a human, or…” Jon’s eyes twinkled. “He thought maybe the two of you were attracted to each other and didn’t want to admit it. Since he’s the only one onboard that knows we’re married, I think he particularly relished suggesting that.”

Trip threw back his head and laughed. Jon joined him and they had a good minute of amusement. Trip slid closer to Jon and pulled him up against him.

“That must be it,” Trip murmured, his hand going up to stroke through Jonathan’s soft brown hair. “I’m carryin’ a secret crush.”

Jon slid his fingers through Trip shorter blonde hair. “I’ve had my suspicions. She’s totally your type.”

Trip snorted, his fingers caressing the side of Jon’s face, gliding over his cheekbones, his lips, and his jaw.

“You’re right. Arrogant, demanding, bossy…”

“Hey,” Jon protested. “I am not arrogant.”

Trip grinned. “Not with me, you’re not. But I’ve seen you with Soval-“

Jon rolled his eyes. “Fighting fire with fire.” He paused, his eyes flicking down and then suddenly back up, boring straight into Trip’s, all humor gone. “It’s okay. If you are attracted to her. She’s smart and challenging…”

“Jon!” Trip exclaimed, but Jon held up his hand.

“You had some pretty serious relationships with women before we got together. I’ve never expected you to turn off that part of you.”

“Jonathan Archer!” Trip said, grabbing Jon’s face and holding it firmly. “Yes, I am still bi-sexual. So are you. Do I look at women? Yes. Do you? Yes. Monogamy and commitment have nothing to do with being attracted to both sexes. I’m committed to you for the rest of our lives. You damned well know that!”

“I do,” Jon said, soothingly. “But there are sparks between the two of you. You have a chemistry—“

“A toxic chemistry,” Trip said firmly. “Listen, I don’t blame Phlox for bringing it up. We’ve all been kids and teenagers and young people do lash out when they don’t know what to do with their feelings, but you and I, and hell, especially T’Pol, are way past that.”

Trip leaned forward and kissed Jon firmly on the lips and then pulled back and riveted Jon’s gaze to his.

“I promise you, I have no interest in or desire for T’Pol. She just pisses me off something fierce, and apparently I do the same to her. She and I will figure it out. Like you said; we’re both adults and officers. Time for us to act like it.”

Jon smiled and cupped Trip’s face in his hands.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?”

Trip smirked. “Nope. But you can do one better an’ show me.”

Jon smiled, a devious twinkle in his eyes.

“In that case, Commander, we are both wearing far too many clothes.”

Trip stood up and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He held out a hand to his husband and pulled him up.

“Your turn,” he purred.

Porthos wisely abandoned the bed for his own cushion as his two daddies made quick work of their clothing and fell back on the bed. Trip had thrown down the gauntlet to Jon to show his love, but it was Trip who took control. He pushed Jon onto his back on the bed and straddled him. Hands on either side of his husband’s head, he set about using his lips to show his husband just how much he was loved.

By the time Trip had kissed and licked and nibbled every centimeter of Jon’s face, neck, and chest, Jon was writhing under him, gasping and moaning, his hands running along Trip’s back and sides. He snuck a hand in and tried to stroke Trip’s nipples, but Trip batted his hand away. Jon had been unhappy and suffering, and Trip was going to make it up to him.

As his tongue laved its way down Archer’s taut abs, Trip allowed his fingers to skate over his lover’s firm, muscular thighs. Occasionally, his fingers would dance along the cords of Jon’s hips, and then push into that slight dip next to the pelvic bone that made Archer moan and thrust up.

Jon’s hands rested on Trip’s hips, silently urging his hands to where Jon wanted them the most. Trip teased and delayed until Jon’s thrashing and groans were at a fever pitch, and then Trip relented and slipped his calloused hand around Jon’s straining erection.

“Oh God, yes!” Archer hissed, thrusting into Trip’s hand. “More, Trip. Please.”

Trip kissed both of Jon’s nipples and used his tongue to draw a wet line between his pecs and up to his collarbone.

Jon jerked Trip’s mouth up to his and sealed their lips in a searing kiss. Trip pulled Jon’s probing tongue into his mouth and sucked it, mimicking what he had done to Jon’s cock so many times before. Jon’s moans shot up an octave and he pushed himself harder into Trip’s hand.

“You are in a hurry tonight, Darlin’,” Trip murmured between frantic kisses.

“Trip,” Jon panted. “It’s been a long damn week and a long damn day, and if you don’t make me come right now, I am going to do it myself.”

Trip clamped his legs around Archer’s hips and squeezed, holding him in place. His hand went from gently squeezing the other man’s cock to firmly stroking it from base to tip. Archer responded immediately, throwing his head back and shouting out his approval.

Trip looked down at his soulmate with feral eyes and then captured his mouth in another burning kiss. He pumped his hand around Jon’s cock and ground his own aching erection against Jon’s stomach.

Jon wanted to touch Trip, to bring him to completion with him, but he knew his husband wouldn’t allow it. Jon would come first and then Trip would take him, fast and hard, using Jon’s body to send him over the edge. Jon couldn’t wait.

Trip squeezed, stroked, and kissed his lover until Jon stiffened and cried out, Trip’s hand pumping him, his mouth plundering his. Jon’s orgasm was long and intense. He splattered both of them with his release. He gasped for air, his heart pounding, as he fell back against the mattress.

That was Trip’s cue, and he pulled the lube from the bedside drawer and slathered it on his own rigid member before doing the same to Jon’s opening. Jon didn’t need any more preparation. They had a fantastic and considerable sex life. He was more than ready.

Trip spread Jon’s legs, lifted his hips, and then drove into his husband with one steady, urgent push. Jon’s head tossed back again. It was almost too much, this pleasure so soon after coming, but he wouldn’t have stopped Trip for the world. He looked up at the glistening face of his love as Trip tipped his head back briefly before snapping back, his eyes boring into Jon’s before he started to thrust.

“More,” Jon whispered. “Harder.”

Trip happily complied. This was heaven for him. Jon underneath him, already sated but ready for more, telling Trip to take what they both wanted. He pulled Jon’s hips up higher and went in search of that spot that would make his husband scream. In two thrusts he found it and Jon came up off the mattress as far as he could. Trip held him there and pounded into him with everything he had.

Trip felt his orgasm starting. It was going to be fast and hard. Jon’s internal muscles tightened in preparation for his own release and that was it for Trip. He thrust forward as hard as he could and held Jon steady as he came deep inside his lover. Jon called out as his second orgasm tore through him. They rode the waves together before collapsing in a sweaty, wet heap on the bed.


	2. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've barely gotten out into space and now Trip is...pregnant? How do he and Jon get through this unprecedented pregnancy? Looks a bit deeper into the whole question of consent and the ramifications of what it would really be like if Trip had to bring the baby into the world. 
> 
> Porthos made an unexpected appearance. I don't know why. I kept him in. Pesky beagle. Good thing I adore him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to add to this story. I'm not going to strictly adhere to the order of the episodes. I'll write whatever pops into my head, but at the same time try to not making any changes too jarring. If you have a particular episode you would like to see me drop into my A/T world, please let me know!

Jon was in a quandry. He knew, without doubt, that Trip had not knowingly done anything sexual with the alien engineer, but he knew that Trip’s reputation as a player was still widely believed, and as such, the Captain should be dubious about Trip’s insistence that he had done nothing wrong. He raised an eyebrow at the engineer and hoped Trip understood that Jon was just playing a part.

“I was a perfect gentleman!” Trip insisted and bristled at T’Pol’s obvious skepticism. He glared at the Vulcan. 

Oh shit, Jon thought. Not when I finally got them on good terms.

“I believe you, Trip,” Jon said. He smiled wryly. “But you are pretty trusting and charming,” Jon said. “Which leads me to believe you were taken advantage of and didn’t even know it.”

“I concur,” Dr. Phlox said. “The fetus has none of Commander Tucker’s DNA. He is just a receptacle, an incubator if you will. There could be any number of ways the engineer transferred her DNA to the Commander without him knowing about it.

T’Pol’s demeanor clearly showed that she was not convinced. Archer shot her a glare, and she seemed to understand and relaxed her posture.

“If this is true,” T’Pol said, “then a Starfleet officer has been assaulted. We need to contact Starfleet and ask them how they wish us to proceed. If they wish us to take the Xryillians into custody—“

Off Trip’s panicked look, Jon jumped in.

“I think that is a bit premature. This was their first contact with humans. It is possible that she didn’t know she had impregnated the Commander.”

Trip winced at the word “impregnated.” He looked down at the grotesque nipples on his wrist. Eventually Starfleet would be told about this, and he would never live it down. His excitement about First Contacts suddenly seemed hopelessly naive.

“I don’t care about charges or any of that,” Trip said. “I just wanna get this thing out of me as soon as possible.” He looked up at Jon with pleading eyes. “Please, Cap’n. I can’t do this.”

“I understand,” Jon said. He turned to T’Pol. “Do everything you can to find the Xyrillian ship. We don’t know how this....pregnancy is going to impact the commander’s health, so we need to find the Xyrillians as quickly as we can.”

T’Pol nodded and spun on her heel and strode out of sickbay.

“I don’t think the Commander is going to be in any danger,” Phlox said, smiling. “He may experience some discomfort, mood swings, hormonal changes. Certainly an increased appetite, and possibly an increased sexual appetite as well, but nothing dangerous.”

Trip’s face was a mask of horror, and Jon felt a wave of empathy sweep over him. His poor husband was in uncharted waters that they could never have anticipated. He had to get Trip alone to comfort and reassure him. Come hell or high water, Jon was going to find that ship and get this baby out of Trip.

“Still,” Jon said to the doctor. “I want you to monitor him closely.” He pinned the jovial doctor with his best I’m-Captain-don’t-mess-with-me-glare. “This is to remain completely confidential. No one else, including Cutler, is to know about this.”

“Of course, Captain,” Phlox said mildly. “I am always discreet.”

Jon turned to his aggrieved husband.

“Trip, I think you’ve earned a day off to adjust to this—“

“No,” Trip said firmly. “I need to stay busy. If I have to sit with my thoughts, I’ll throw myself out an airlock.

Jon nodded.

“Understood. Just don’t push yourself. If you’re feeling sick come and see the doctor.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Trip said, his eyes downcast as he turned to go to engineering.

“I’ll walk you down,” Jon said and quickly fell in step with Trip. They wouldn’t be able to really talk until they were both off shift, but he was going to support his husband in every way that he could in the meantime.

Jon glanced at the time. Dinner would be served in thirty minutes, and Trip was still down in engineering despite his shift having ended half an hour ago. He had a sneaking suspicion his chief engineer was hiding out behind his engine to avoid spending time with T’Pol. He was going to have to thwart that plan immediately.

“Archer to Tucker,” he said sternly into the com.

“Tucker here.”

“Commander, make sure you are at the Captain’s mess on time. I have a few things I need to discuss with you and the Sub Commander.”

There was a pause. Busted, Jon thought.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Trip replied.

Thankfully dinner went as well as could be expected. After updating Trip and Jon on the search for the Xyrillian ship, T’Pol turned the conversation to other ship’s business. Normally Jon preferred to talk about other things during dinner, but he didn’t feel up to the effort it took to find a subject that wouldn’t cause a spirited debate with the Vulcan. T’Pol skipped dessert as usual and left. 

“Thank God,” Trip sighed. “If I had to look at her smirking face one more—“

“She wasn’t smirking,” Jon inserted smoothly. “I can understand why you might expect that, but I was watching her closely, and she was completely professional.” Trip rolled his eyes but decided not to argue the point.

“I stopped by sickbay before I came here,” Trip said. “Phlox measured the...embryo, and said based on its development and rate of growth the gestation for Xyrillians is probably around four months.”

“So...that’s good?”

“No, it’s not!” Trip glared at him. “That means this thing is gonna grow like a weed and people are gonna be able to tell what’s going on real soon.”

“They might notice growth,” Jon soothed. “But the pod is on your side. No one is going to look at that and think pregnancy.”

“Someone will,” Trip groused. “Then it will spread like wildfire, and I’ll be the laughingstock of Enterprise.”

Jon reached over and squeezed Trip’s hand.

“I can have Phlox ‘slip’ and say something about a growth or even a tumor to point the rumors in other directions. He can load it with medical jargon about why it can’t be removed yet, and no one will know the difference.”

Trip regarded his husband somberly.

“And if we don’t find the ship, and I have to go through with this...” he waved his hand in the air. “Pregnancy? How do we explain the sudden appearance of an alien baby?”

Jon sighed heavily.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said. He paused for a moment. “If it comes to that, we also have to discuss if it’s possible to provide the baby with the atmosphere it needs to survive. That won’t be easy.”

A pained expression flashed across Trip’s face.

“You mean I might have to go through four months of this, and then the baby dies?” He shook his head. “No. I’m not good with that. If we don’t find the ship in a month, then I’m going to figure out how to create the environment it needs to survive.”

Jon regarded his husband.

“And if we can do that, what would you want to do with the baby?” Trip’s body hunched in on itself.

“Aw hell, I don’t know,” Trip said. “He or she couldn’t have any kind of life on Enterprise. Not on Earth either. They’d have to go back to the Xyrillians. We have the coordinates for their home planet.”

“Yes,” Jon said. “We may be going there sooner rather than later if we can’t find that ship. Phlox is confident they can remove the baby from you safely, and I’d rather that happen than it being born.”

Trip stared into Jon’s eyes, and then slowly shook his head.

“Of all the things I imagined,” he said softly. Jon squeezed his hand again.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” Jon said. “Obviously, I need to come up with some official protocols about first contacts so this kind of thing doesn’t happen again.”

“Hey!” Trip protested. Jon held up a hand.

“I’m not blaming you, I’m blaming me. We’re all curious. We all want to learn about other species and cultures. But winging it every time we meet someone is stupid and dangerous, and I should have known that. I know you’re not sure how this happened, but I’m guessing it wasn’t while you were working in their engineering department. Maybe it was the pebbles or maybe it was the holographic room. I don’t know, but there should have been rules and safety guidelines to protect you. There weren’t, and that’s on me.”

Trip sighed and nodded.

“Doesn’t matter, though. I’m still pregnant.” His head dropped into his hands. “Jon, I don’t know know how to do this.”

Jon stood and pulled Trip to his feet and into a hug. Trip leaned into him and hung on for dear life.

“You will get through this,” Jon murmured into Trip’s soft hair. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Through morning sickness and mood swings and crazy appetites?” Trip’s voice was muffled against Jon’s chest.

Jon smiled into Trip’s hair.

“Yes, and I can happily help with one of those appetites.”

Trip looked up at Jon and smiled.

“You know, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Unfortunately, their plans were waylaid by a limping, howling Porthos. He greeted them at the door with mournful puppy eyes, and all thoughts of satisfying appetites went right out an airlock. After a quick, but thorough, examination by both of his daddies, Jon hoisted the beagle into his arms and the trio made their way to sickbay. 

“Captain, Commander,” Phlox said cheerfully as he replaced the lid on one of his various animal habitats. “I assume there is a problem with Porthos since you are carrying him.”

“Yes,” Jon said and gently placed Porthos on the biobed that Phlox had indicated. “He was fine when I left for dinner. I came back, and he was limping and howling.”

“I see,” said Phlox, allowing Porthos to sniff his hand before gently starting to examine the dog. “Which—“

“Front left,” Trip said. “He did fine on the treadmill with me yesterday. Didn’t fall or anything.”

Phlox beamed at the men before continuing his examination.

“Porthos is fortunate to have two such attentive parents,” he said, carefully moving his hands to Porthos’ front left leg. Halfway down the limb the dog yipped and jerked away from the doctor’s hands. “I seem to have found the spot.”

Jon tightened his grip on the beagle who was now starting to wiggle and pull away from the doctor.

“Settle down, Porthos,” Jon said softly. “The doc is just trying to help you.”

After a few more minutes of examination, and a thorough scan of the animal, Phlox put down his scanner and stroked the pup’s head.

“Well?” Trip asked. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He has a fracture in the radius of his front leg,” Phlox explained. “It’s not a major one, but obviously enough to cause him discomfort.”

“So, he jumped off the bed wrong or something like that?” Archer asked, frowning down at his buddy. “He can get antsy if I’m gone for extended times.”

Phlox shook his head.

“Rest easy, Captain. Porthos did nothing to cause this. It appears that he has osteosarcoma, a rather aggressive form of bone cancer. It is unusual in a dog his age and his breed, but it can be easily treated.”

“Cancer!” Jon and Trip shared a shocked look before Jon spoke again. “But you just did his check-up two months ago, and everything was fine.”

Phlox frowned. 

“You are correct. It is unusual for a cancer to grow this quickly. Pre-cancerous cells are usually caught well before the tumor begins to grow.” He paused. “The other odd thing is that the tumor itself is small. By the time the bone is degraded enough to cause a fracture, the mass is usually large enough to be discernable just by looking at the leg.”

He smiled reassuringly at the two men.

“Nevertheless, the treatment is simple. If you’ll leave him with me for the evening, I can return him to you healthy and happy tomorrow morning.”

Jon and Trip shared another look, and Jon shook his head.

“Doctor, I don’t mean to undermine your expertise, but you said some aspects of this are unusual. Maybe you could do a more thorough analysis? Make sure there’s nothing else going on?”

Phlox nodded.

“Of course, Captain, if that will make you feel better. I will do a complete check-up including blood and urine analyses.” He patted Porthos on the head. “Now say good-bye to your canine son, and I’ll begin his treatment immediately.”

Both men grimaced at the phrase ‘canine son,’ but turned their attention to loving up Porthos for a couple of minutes before reluctantly leaving him with the good doctor.

As they made their way back to their, well, officially the captain’s quarters, Trip could tell that Jon was deeply worried about the dog.

“Cheer up. Doc says he’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Jon sighed. “I just don’t like ‘unusual’ things. That usually means bad things.”

“C’mon now,” Trip said lightly. “Look at the bright side. If we don’t find the Xyrillians before this baby arrives, Porthos will have a baby sister or brother to play with.”

Jon side eyed him, and they both laughed. Jon nudged Trip’s shoulder with his own.

“I’m glad you’re starting to see the humor in all of this.”

Trip rolled his eyes.

“It’s either laugh or cry, right? Gotta make the best of it.”

“That’s my Trip,” Jon said, warmly. “Always looking on the bright side.”

Trip snorted.

“Let me tell you, the subject of unwanted pregnancy takes on a whole different view when you’re the one that can get pregnant. I feel like I owe an apology to every woman whose ever been born for just how clueless men are.”

Jon grinned.

“You’ll have to write it about it in your memoirs.”

“The hell I will!” Trip said as he stabbed the button for the turbolift. “I ain’t tellin’ anyone about this. Ever!”

“Okay,” Jon said, as they stepped into the lift and he keyed the door closed. “I’ll put it in my memoirs.”

Trip whipped around the face him.

“Jonathan Beckett Archer, if you ever do such a thing, I will divorce you on the spot! An’ I will release every blackmail photo of you I have, including that one from the B&B in Sausalito!”

Laughing, Jon raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I give. No memoirs.”

“Better not be,” Trip groused, glaring at his husband. “I mean it, Jon. ALL of the photos.”

Jon smothered another laugh.

“Message received, Commander,” he said formally, but his eyes still twinkled with mirth. Trip huffed in exasperation and ignored his husband for the rest of the ride. 

After settling Trip’s ‘appetites,’ the couple spent the rest of the night entwined on the captain’s bed deeply asleep. When the chronometer beeped to let them know it was time to get up, Trip’s eyes slowly opened and then closed again. It was so warm and comfortable. He just needed five more minutes.

Jon, who never, ever hit the snooze button, disagreed. He reached over Trip’s shoulder to turn off the alarm, jostling his husband a bit in the process. At the unexpected motion, Trip’s eyes shot open and he lurched out of bed and ran for the bathroom.

“Trip?” Jon queried. “What’s wrong?” He followed Trip into the bathroom to find him throwing up in the toilet. He frowned and reached for a hand towel and filled a cup with water. Morning sickness already? Trip hadn’t even known he was pregnant for 24 hours, and he was already sick? This did not bode well.

Jon rubbed soothing circles on Trip’s back, until he was finally done and stood up. Jon reached around and flushed the toilet and then handed Trip the towel and the cup. The engineer quickly wiped his face and rinsed his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Jon said, stroking Trip’s arm. “You must feel awful.”

Trip nodded silently and pulled his toothbrush out to clean his mouth.

“You okay?” Jon asked. “Or do you think there’s more?”

“I’m done,” Trip said morosely. “And I don’t plan on eatin’ a thing today.”

Jon resisted the urge to tell Trip that he needed to eat, not only for the baby, but for his own health. They still had no idea just what toll this pregnancy was going to take on Trip’s body. But Jon kept his mouth shut. Trip didn’t need any more pressure. However, Jon would do whatever he could to get sustenance into his husband. A visit to Chef was in order.

Jon and Trip quickly showered together and got ready for the day ahead. Trip would disappear into engineering, and Jon intended to let him do just that. Meanwhile, Jon was going to flog his bridge crew into finding the Xyrillian ship by any means necessary while he conducted his own research. Maybe he could contact Forest without revealing why he was looking for information. He had to be as low-key about it as possible. He knew how much it would devastate Trip if anyone else found out about his ‘condition.’ Archer was not going to let that happen. 

After two hours of circling the stations on the bridge to see what progress his senior staff had made, Jon knew he needed to retire to his ready room before a mutiny was born. He had tried, REALLY tried, to not be overbearing about finding the Xyrillians, but there was no way his crew had not noticed. T’Pol had given him several level, measuring looks to let him know that he was overstepping. He cared, and he didn’t. This was Trip they were talking about. Trip had a foreign entity inside him, and if Trip wanted it out right now, Jon wanted it out ten times sooner. 

Jon had no idea what he was eating. All he knew was that it wasn’t unpleasing to his taste buds. It was filling his stomach. That was it. However, he was very aware that Trip was barely eating anything. Each fork he lifted to his mouth was greeted with a wince that Trip was trying hard to hide. Jon had asked his husband, gently, to try and eat something, just for his own health. Trip had sighed heavily and agreed. But it was taking a toll, and it hurt Jon to see it.

The steward came in and took Jon’s plate and replaced it with a slice of pecan pie. Jon smiled and looked up at Trip who was leaning back so his plate could be removed. When the pie was put down in front of him, something resembling a smile barely curved Trip’s lips.

Jon chuckled and lightly punched his husband’s shoulder.

“This more to your liking?”

Trip snorted.

“Pecan pie is always to my liking.”

“Good,” Jon said. “Eat as much as you want. Eat a whole pie if you want.”

Trip arched an eyebrow at his husband.

“I don’t think my waistline needs a whole pie, Jon.”

Jon rolled his eyes.

“Trip, have you looked in the mirror? You are in perfect shape. You could eat three pies and that wouldn’t change.”

Trip huffed.

“You need to really look at me. I have this weird, bulgy thing attached to my side, and I look like a freak—“

Jon bit his tongue. He was this close to telling Trip off. How could the man even think such a thing? Yes, he had a pod containing an alien child attached to his body, but that didn’t change who he was or how attractive he was. It was a temporary thing. Nothing more.

Jon stood up and leaned across the table to seal his mouth against Trip’s. He poured every ounce of love and desire into it, pushing Trip back into his chair as Jon kissed the daylights out of him.

“Trip,” he said, licking a wet strip along the shell of Trip’s ear. “I look at you every day, and I have never wanted you more than I do now.”

Trip pulled back.

“Jon, don’t lie to me—“ he protested.

Jon cut him off with a deeper kiss, thrusting his tongue into Trip’s mouth. Trip gasped, resisting, until Jon’s hand tangled into his hair and pulled Trip deeper into the kiss. Submerged in his husband’s passionate and loving kiss, Trip had to acknowledge the truth of what Archer said.

Jon felt the change. One moment, Trip was hurting – doubting how much Jon wanted him, doubting that he was still the same intelligent, talented, sexy man that his husband always knew him to be. The next minute, Trip embraced how Jon saw him. He leaned forward into Jon’s kiss, into his love and belief and allowed himself to believe it.

Jon didn’t waste a second. He pulled Trip out of his chair and then pushed him down onto the floor of their quarters. He had told the steward to serve dessert and then take the rest of the night off. He knew, in his bones, what Trip needed, and nothing was going to stop him from delivering it.

“Jon,” Trip protested.

“He’s gone for the night,” Jon said, pulling down the zipper on Trip’s uniform. “Anyone who interrupts us is going to get a phase cannon up their nose.”

Trip laughed and Jon allowed it until he couldn’t resist those full lips and bright blue eyes. Jon wasn’t particularly gentle as he stripped Trip of his clothes. He was less gentle with himself. The bed was a scant few steps away, but Jon had no intention of making that journey. He didn’t have anything specific planned beyond locking the door behind the steward. This was going to be them, and just them, and by the end of the night, Trip was never going to doubt that Jon wanted him, no matter what.

For Trip, time seemed to stop. One moment he was sharing a meal with Jon, trying to hide how miserable and gross he felt, and the next moment he was on his back on the floor with Jon on top of him, kissing him senseless. Jon was an Alpha male. He wanted to be in charge, but as a true Alpha, he didn’t need to be. He was more than happy to let Trip take the lead when he wanted to.

Right now, Trip did not want to. Actually, he couldn’t. He needed his husband to be in charge, to remind him who he was and who they were together. The life attached to him might be small, but it had complete control of not just his body, but also his mind. His primitive, human mind just could not understand being pregnant. It might mean he was base and unenlightened, but he just couldn’t embrace it. He wanted children, desperately. He did not want to bear them. It just wasn’t…natural? Right? No. None of those things. If someone else wanted those things, that was great. It was just something that he knew he was not emotionally built for. He wasn’t physically built for it, either, and he was trying really hard not to think about what would happen if he had to …deliver this child. Whatever that might entail, it was not something that human physiology was built for. 

He didn’t get to ruminate on it for long because Jon was relentless and had pulled one of Trip’s nipples into his mouth and sucked on it, hard. Trip arched and groaned as fire zipped down his spine and straight to his groin. One of Jon’s hands was tugging on Trip’s hair and the other was busy stroking his side – the one without the pod – slightly tickling the engineer’s ribs. Trip tried to wriggle away from those teasing fingers, but Jon has having none of that. He switched nipples and moved both hands down Trip’s sides, feathering touches along his ribs. When Jon’s hand brushed against the pod, sheer want stabbed through Trip and he shot up screaming with need.

Jon was thrown back onto his heels. His eyes were wide with panic and guilt.

“I’m sorry!” he gasped. “Babe, I’m so sorry! I forgot. Does it hurt? God, how could I be so thoughtless?”

Trip grabbed Jon’s hands and squeezed them. He was panting like he had just run a dead sprint down a football field. 

“No, no,” he gasped out. “Not pain. It felt so good.” He looked up into Jon’s confused and slightly relieved face. “It was like…it was almost like coming, only zeroed in on the one spot you were touching me, touching the pod.” He trembled and panted for several minutes, trying to regain his equilibrium.

“Are you okay?” Jon gently queried. He watched Trip come down from the extreme reaction to the pod being touched, and he was unsure how to proceed. 

Trip chuckled and leaned forward to put his forehead on Jon’s damp chest.

“Yes, but I don’t think I can handle it if you do that again. I don’t think humans are built for that kind of…stimulation.”

“Do you want to stop?” Jon asked, gently and carefully carding his fingers through Trip’s hair. “It’s okay if you do.”

Trip glared up at his very naked but not so aroused husband. He looked down at their flagging erections and back up at Jon.

“You started this, an’ you are damned well gonna finish it. Since the moment was interrupted, let’s move this party to the bed.”

Jon grinned and stood, pulling Trip up and against him. He gently kissed Trip.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

Trip nipped Jon’s bottom lip and smiled at him.

“I hope you took your vitamins today, ‘cause these hormones are raging and you’re the only one that can calm the beast.”

Jon pushed Trip towards the bed, a feral glint in his eye.

“Oh, I took my vitamins. I’ve been doing cardio. Hell, I even had an extra cup of coffee today, Charles Tucker the third. The question is, can you keep up with me?”

The bed hit the back of Trip’s legs and he fell back, sprawling out in front of Jon, his cock back to full mast and aching for attention.

“Do your damnedest,” he challenged. “First one to call Uncle has the clean the bathroom for the next month.”

“Clean the bathroom naked,” Jon said. “You know how I like to see you kneeling on the floor with your ass up in the air.”

Trip laughed.

“Ditto. I’ll even let you put a towel under your knees so it doesn’t hurt.”

Jon crawled on to the bed and on top of Trip. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against his husbands, ever so softly.

“Like coming, only zeroed in, huh?” Jon whispered. He slid his tongue along Trip’s jaw, reveling in the roughness. He dipped down to taste the softness of his throat. 

“Jon!” Trip gasped. “I told you, it’s too much—“

“Then I guess you’ll be cleaning the bathroom and I’ll be enjoying every minute of it,” Jon growled. He smiled into Trip’s wide, slightly scared eyes, and he pounced.

Trip was lost in a tsunami of sensation. Jon’s hot mouth, his thrusting tongue, his strong fingers were all over Trip’s body. Jon latched on to Trip’s nipple with his mouth while one hand danced across Trip’s straining erection. Jon released the nipple with a pop and surged up to lock his mouth onto Trip’s, and pulled Trip’s tongue into a vice-like grip while his hand continued its relentless assault. With his tongue immobilized, Trip went wild as Jon’s hands tickled up and down his sides, circling the pod but not quite touching it. White, green, and red lights flashed behind his eyelids as Jon continued his onslaught. Trip whined high in his throat as his hips came up off the bed as high as possible. He needed, he NEEDED to come. He had never been this consumed by need. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t.

Trip tore his mouth away from Jon’s and locked his eyes with Jon’s.

“Please,” he whispered, raggedly. “Please. Now. . It hurts. I need to come.”

Jon’s eyes teared up, and he nodded. He firmed his touch as he slid his hands down Trip’s body until he wrapped one of his big hands around Trip’s hardness.

“Your wish is my command,” Jon whispered, leaning in to capture Trip’s mouth, gently dipping down to brush lips, then went deeper, pulling Trip’s bottom lip into his mouth and gently, oh so gently, nipping it.

Trip threw his head back as Jon stroked him, and then Jon’s mouth was laving down Trip’s neck to his chest, and down across his abs, his hand never hesitating in its strong and insistent rhythm. Trip thrust up into Jon’s hand as hard as he could, his back bowed up. He was subsumed in fire. He needed release. He needed.

Jon increased the speed of his hand, and Trip felt the orgasm starting at the base of his spine. He met Jon’s strokes with hard thrusts and he was so close, but he knew it wasn’t going to work. He was too wired, too cued up.

“Take me,” he gasped. He wrenched himself away from Jon’s hand and flipped himself over. “I need you inside me.”

Jon made an inarticulate sound that closely resembled a growl and reached for the lube in the nightstand. He had planned to pleasure Trip and only Trip, but if this was what his husband needed, he wasn’t going to argue.

Archer slicked himself, slipped his wet fingers around Trip’s opening and without preamble, lifted Trip’s hips and drove all the way into him.

Trip came up off the mattress, keening and wailing at the sensations assaulting him, and Jon responded in kind. Trip pushed back against Jon and at the same time pulled Jon’s hand forward to stroke the pod on his side. Not to encompass his aching cock, but rather to touch the new hypersensitive and erotic zone on his side.

As if he had done it every day of his life, Jon caressed his fingers over the pod, his touch suddenly light and then suddenly firm, stroking Trip to the edge of madness. Trip actually felt the moment when the sensation reached its zenith, and he could not take anymore.

“Jon!” Trip screamed. Jon drove into him, all the way in and all the way out. As he slammed in, he closed his fingers around the pod and Trip came. He threw his head all the way back and screamed, sucking air into his lungs over and over as he called out the hardest, strongest orgasm of his life. Behind him, Jon continued to plunge in and out. Trip assumed that Jon came at some point, but he couldn’t be sure. He was encapsulated in the existence of his mind and body. Every single nerve ending in his body was ringing and trembling. He could not, and did not, want to exist beyond this. 

He collapsed onto the mattress and fought to breathe. Every molecule in his body had burst apart and was now coalescing again. He had never been stripped so bare. 

At some point, Trip became aware of himself and the world around him. He had no idea how long he had floated in the aching, exquisite realm of the most encompassing orgasm of his life, but he did not choose to leave it. He just got pulled back into reality.

He and Jon had always blown the doors off, but this was a whole different level. He loved it. He felt that Jon loved it. 

Jon pulled Trip on top of him, Trip’s chest pressing down on his as Jon settled them into the bed and pulled the covers up over both of them. Jon took a deep breath in and then blew it out. He took another breath, and exhaled.

Trip, half asleep and exhausted, nuzzled against Jon’s chest.

“You are the love of my life,” Jon breathed. “Please, don’t ever doubt that. I don’t care if you have ten kids from before we met. I don’t care if you have a child with this alien. We are forever, Trip. Know that. You are my forever, and I am yours. Believe in us. I love you, more than I can say.” 

“Thank you for saying it,” Trip murmured. “I know it in my heart, but it helps to hear it.”

“Always, Babe,” Jon whispered. “Always.”

*****

Jon was having a great deal of trouble keeping his temper. He alternately glared at the Xyrillian captain and checked Trip’s expression. Trip would have preferred the conversation with Ah’len to be private but there was no way on God’s green earth Jon was going to let her anywhere near Trip by herself.

“Again,” the captain said soothingly. “I am so very sorry. Ah’len did not know, none of us knew, that procreation with a human was possible.”

“Yes,” Jon said. “You’ve explained that several times. What you,” he glared at Ah’len, “And your engineer haven’t explained is why she performed a sexual act on my engineer without his permission! That is called rape on our planet, and it is one of the very worst things you can do to a human.”  
The captain swallowed and shot a glance at Ah’len. The Xyrillian had the decency to look ashamed.

“I cannot offer you a suitable explanation,” Ah’len said. She reached to take Trip’s hand, but he stepped backwards, and she let her hand fall. “It was impulsive and wrong of me.” She turned her eyes back to Trip. “Trip, I am very sorry that I deceived you, and that I did something that harmed you. I thought it would be some innocent fun, and I was very wrong.”

“If you wish to pursue formal charges,” the Xyrillian captain said stiffly. “We will, of course, comply. Or, if you prefer, we will carry out Ah’len’s punishment ourselves.”

Ah’len blanched at that, her eyes wide and frightened. Clearly, she hadn’t expected to be held accountable for her actions. Jon looked at Trip who looked completely torn. Clearly, he didn’t want Ah’len hurt, but he didn’t want her to get off scott-free.

“What would your punishment be?” Jon asked, cautiously.

The captain met his eyes solidly.

“She would be stripped of her rank and returned to our home world. She would have to work her way back up, if she chooses.” He paused. “She will not be allowed any first contact with another species for the rest of her career.”

Ah’len gasped, and Jon saw tears gathering in her eyes. He felt bad for her for a moment, but then remembered all of the fear, sickness, and misery that his husband had endured for the last two weeks. He nodded sharply.

“That is agreeable.” He turned to Trip. “Commander, their doctors assure me that you are in good health and that nothing remains of the pod. Are you ready to go to bariatric chamber so that we can return to Enterprise?”

Trip nodded, and to Jon’s surprise, did not look at Ah’len before he turned to walk away. Jon and the captain exchanged sharp nods, and then Jon also turned away without looking at Ah’len. They were both done with her. Hopefully she had learned a lesson. 

As Jon and Trip sat in the chamber, their fingers laced together, Jon leaned over and kissed Trip on the cheek.

“Feeling better?” he asked. 

Trip looked up at him with a wry smile.

“Yeah. It’s nice to have my body back. Nice to not feel like I'm gonna puke at any moment.” He squeezed Jon’s fingers. “Very glad to not have to wonder if and how I was going to have that baby, that’s for sure.”

Jon smiled at him.

“No more baby worries,” he said. “We can get back to exploring.”

Trip nodded, but his eyes skittered away from Jon’s for a moment before the engineer seemed to come to a decision. He raised his head and pinned his husband with an intense look.

“What?” Jon asked, softly. He could tell something big was coming.

“We’ve always talked about having kids when we decide to stop exploring out here. I was thinking, maybe we don’t have to wait that long.”

Jon’s mouth fell open. His mind couldn’t quite comprehend what Trip was saying.

“You mean…start a family…on the ship? Have the kids with us out here?”

“Yeah,” Trip said. “The Xyrillians do it. Hell, even the Vulcans do it sometimes. Why not us?”

“But,” Jon swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “We’ve just started exploring. We don’t really know what we’re doing yet, and I don’t think Starfleet would-“

Trip’s hand closed over Jon’s and gave a small squeeze. Trip leaned forward, a small smile curving his lips.

“I’m not talking about right now. Maybe in four or five years. After we’ve been a few places, made some new friends.” Trip looked deep into Jon’s eyes. “We’re pioneers. We are doing all of these things for the first time in human history. We break barriers every single day. This would just be another one.”

“You really think we could make it work?” Jon asked, his mind spinning with the possibilities. His quarters would have to be enlarged. They would be living together. Obviously, everyone would know they were married. How would they have room for a crib and a swing, and that other thing that sat on the floor and vibrated? How would they juggle duty shifts and feeding times?

“Hey, come back,” Trip said. Jon met Trip’s twinkling eyes. “Four of five years, okay? Maybe a bit more. I’m just saying, let’s think outside the box. Let’s put this a bit more in focus than just ‘someday.” Okay?”

Jon smiled and nodded, squeezing Trip’s hand.

“You are going to be the best dad.”

Trip grinned.

“WE are going to be the best dads.”

“First boy is Charles Tucker IV.”

Trip leaned forward and gently kissed Jon.

“Close. I’m Charles Tucker-Archer III, remember? So, Charles Tucker-Archer IV.”

Jon kissed Trip back.

“I can’t wait.”


	3. The beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where and when it all started for Jon and Trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short and sweet. Again, the muse decided to write this chapter. I admire the writers who plan, plot, and research every bit of what they write. It just pours out of me, messy and undisciplined. I've honestly never imagined this sort of start between them before I was writing it. I have to admit, I like it.

The first time I saw Jonathan Archer my breath caught in my throat. I’d been a huge fan and acolyte of his father although I’d never met the man, and I certainly knew Jonathan’s Starfleet jacket like I knew my own. As Henry Archer’s son, he was impressive from the get-go. His own accomplishments were even more so.

I’d seen the pictures in his Starfleet bio and in some media coverage. He was handsome. It seemed par for the course for someone with his genetics. Then, I saw him striding into Starfleet headquarters one day when I was still a cadet, and, no lie; I was stopped in my tracks.

He was tall with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His skin was golden from the California sun, and his features were stronger in person than in photos. He moved with authority and purpose even though men and women of higher rank surrounded him. Jonathan Archer wasn’t just a natural leader; he was a force of nature.

I fell in love on the spot. 

I had my own strengths. I was very smart. I was highly educated. Some people – most people – considered me pretty good -looking, ski-slope nose and all. I kept myself fit. I could charm the socks off a snake, as my grandma used to say. Jonathan Archer was a whole different level of wow. I really wanted to experience that wow up close and personal.

I had cultivated the persona of a Southern boy horn dog who would nail any woman worth looking at. It was half false. I did enjoy having sex with women, and I never had any of them complain, but I wasn’t interested in relationships with them. For one thing, I was Starfleet and had big ambitions. I was going to be on the first Warp-5 starship and as chief engineer if I had anything to say about it. Not conducive to serious relationships. So, fun and casual sex fit the bill.

The other half was that when it came to emotions; romance, intimacy, and commitment, that only happened with men. I had had exactly two ‘serious’ relationships, both before I joined Starfleet. I didn’t regret either one, but I knew I couldn’t sustain anything like that once I zeroed in on the future that I wanted out in space. 

That is, until I met Jon, up close and in person. Then, all my opinions and beliefs about long-term relationships while in Starfleet went out the window. Despite the fact that I had been on Jeffries’ team for the NX project, I had not met Jon until after the first flight failed. I was seething that night in the hangar because I knew AG Robinson had screwed up, and his arrogant refusal to follow orders had set our program back immensely. 

When that condescending SOB Vulcan said that Henry Archer’s engine was a failure, all I saw was red. It was complete BS. I had committed every iota of information about that engine to memory. I had worked on it with my own hands, and I had run countless simulations and calculations. That engine was sound, and all we needed was some time to tweak the details. Fucking Robinson. I wondered if I would get court-martialed if I punched him dead in the face.

Instead, I took the much safer route of lipping off to the Vulcan Ambassador in front of Forrest and Archer. I looked casual, but inside my heart was hammering away at the inside of my chest. I figured my smart mouth had just ended my career, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jon’s mouth quirk into an almost smile.

I decided losing my career would be worth it if I could parlay the foot-in-mouth moment into shaking that man’s hand. Stupid, but true, nonetheless.

Then, Jon invited me out to the 602 for drinks, and even though I never, EVER flirted with anyone in Starfleet, I found myself flirting with him. Just a teeny bit. I turned on my megawatt smile. I flattered him even as we commiserated over Robinson’s rash decisions. I backed him with honest indignation when Forrest told us the program was being shut down, and I cheered when he beat the snot out of AG. 

The next few days were a blur of a hellacious hangover, Jon and AG’s crazy plan to steal the NX Beta, and the inevitable ass kicking we got from Forrest and company. I didn’t get court martialed or kicked out of Starfleet. That was a win in my books. Jeffries officially reprimanded me and put a note in my file, but the approval in his eyes more than made up for it. The NX project moved forward and so did my friendship with Jon.

I didn’t exactly know what Jon’s sexual orientation was. Gossips said that he had almost married his last girlfriend. He dated casually. Sometimes we went on double dates. Inevitably those relationships would end, but our friendship remained. Jon taught me a lot about being an officer, and about being smart about going after my goals in Starfleet. I helped him, too. When the Vulcans pointed out problems with his father’s engine or the technical aspects of our test flights, he had my knowledge and voice in his ear as he fired back at the pointy-eared devils. 

Through it all, I wanted more, but I knew it wasn’t a good idea. The NX project had to be above reproach. Every aspect of it, and the people who worked on it, had to be top-notch. It wasn’t even that a same-sex relationship between team members would be frowned on; any relationship within the team would be frowned on.

So, I didn’t say anything. There had been…moments between us throughout the years. Times when I felt his eyes on me, when our teasing banter had a flirty or sexual component to it. We never talked about it. We both knew the stakes, and we both knew we were going to be on that first warp five ship; he as the captain and me as his chief engineer. Everything else was second place. 

When Jon was finally, finally named Captain of the Enterprise, we celebrated like we never had before. It wasn’t official yet, but I was going to be the Chief Engineer of Enterprise. Our dreams were finally coming true.

The announcement by Starfleet turned our lives upside down. Every single news agency on the planet wanted an interview with Jon. Within days of his appointment, he had announced his senior staff roster, and my name was at the top, so, everyone wanted to interview me, too. Starfleet PR decided to schedule join interviews and with our faces and names plastered across the world, we quickly lost all of our privacy and anonymity. People wanted Jon’s autograph. Everyone wanted pics with us. The women and the men came out of the woodwork. We could have slept a different person every hour 24/7 and 365 and not run out of new partners. It was bizarre.

After two weeks of insane scrutiny and invasive questions, Jon snagged me in the halls of HQ on a Thursday afternoon and informed me that, with Forrest’s blessing, he and I were going to escape to the mountains for some hiking, rock climbing, and peace for three days. Sexual desires aside, I practically kissed him on the spot from sheer relief.

Jon hustled us onto a transport, gear and provisions already aboard, and flew us out into the middle of nowhere, otherwise known as Trinity Alps. We grabbed our gear, locked up the transport and headed off into the wilderness.

Jon, ever the Eagle Scout, came prepared with libations to celebrate our freedom. That night, after having stuffed ourselves with bread baked by his newly appointed chef, brie, and charcuterie, he broke out our favorite poison; Kentucky bourbon. It was smooth and warm and despite our full bellies, we were both quickly buzzed.

That’s when things went in a new direction. We were talking about all the things we were looking forward to on our mission. We talked about who we might meet, what first contacts would be like, how it would change us, how far this mission would go. That last part was when things took a serious and very personal turn.

“How long do you think we’ll be out there?” I asked him, stretched out on my right side in front of campfire, one hand propping me up, Jon opposite me.

Jon shrugged.

“A long time, I hope. At least five years. That’s what Command has always said.” He took a long pull on his drink. “Maybe longer. I guess it will depend on how far we go and who we meet.”

“How long do you want to be out there?” I asked, truly curious. We had talked about getting out there, what we might encounter, but never really discussed how long we would be there.

Jon shrugged.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought much about it, I guess.” He looked at me, his eyes guarded. “It’ll depend on how things go, how humans do out there.” He looked away. “It will depend on how we like it, and what we want our goals to be.” He looked back at me and smiled. “It’s always been about just getting there, hasn’t it? I’m not sure we should be looking at the next stage when we haven’t even launched yet.” 

“Oh, yes we should,” I insisted. “We got to this point by looking ahead, setting goals, making plans on how to achieve those goals. The same is true for what comes next.”

Jon pinned me with his intense green eyes.

“I don’t want to do that just yet, Trip,” he said, softly. “I just want to get out there, do our best, make history, and enjoy every bit of it. I’ll worry about the distant future in a couple of years.”

“Oh,” I said, swallowing hard. I thought I had just been asking a general question, but as I heard his answer, I realized what I was really fishing for. What I really wanted and needed to know was whether or not getting out there was going to cause a change in our relationship. Were we going to finally acknowledge this energy between us?

Jon moved closer to me, settling on to his side facing me. My chest got tight, and I gulped at the cool mountain air. Oh shit. What Pandora’s box had I opened?

Jon reached out and took my left hand into his right hand and his thumb stroked against my skin.

“Trip,” he said, and his voice was hoarse. “I know we’re not out there yet, but we know we’re on our way, and I…I think it’s time we had a long overdue talk about what our here and now is going to look like in the next few months.”

“I love you,” I blurted, and then gasped at my unbelievable stupidity. I was going to ruin things before they had even started. If they were going to start, that is.

Jon smiled, and he let go of my hand to brush his thumb again my lower lip. I resisted the urge to pull the digit into my mouth and have my wicked way with it.

“I love you, too,” Jon whispered. “I swear, I fell in love with you the day you lipped off to Soval about my dad’s engine.”

Fierce hope surged in my chest so strongly that it burned. Tears pricked my eyes.

“I fell in love with you the first time I saw you in person. You were going into HQ. I was still a cadet. I about fell over, I swooned so hard.”

Jon laughed, his own eyes damp. 

“I remember. You were so damned young and so damned gorgeous. I thought I was going to "trip" over my feet going up those stairs.”

I gasped.

“No! There’s no way—“

Jon laughed and cupped my face in his big hand. 

“Oh yes. You were all golden hair, blue eyes, and drop-dead gorgeous. I didn’t even know your name, but I sure found it out as fast as I could.”

I gaped at him.

“But, I worked on Jeffries’ team all that time, and you never—“

“I never introduced myself,” Jon said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I was a test pilot. Had a higher rank. No reason for me to consort with the junior officers, but I never missed a chance to watch you. Especially when you were bending over working on some component or the other.”

I smacked Jon’s chest.

“Jonathan Becket Archer, that is a lie.”

Jon shook his head.

“Oh no, it’s not. I had to be careful because we both had so much at stake, but I watched you every chance I got. After AG destroyed the NX Alpha and you lipped off to Soval, I had a legitimate reason to introduce myself. Despite the shit storm AG caused, it was honestly one of the best days of my life. I kept telling myself that I could not jump you, no matter how much I wanted to, and at least now we could form a friendship. Even then, I knew how much the NX project meant to you. We were birds of a feather.” 

“Jon,” I choked out, desire poured into every syllable. Jon’s eyes softened and he leaned forward until our lips almost touched. He paused, giving me the chance to refuse, but there was no way that was going to happen. I met him the rest of the way and at long last our lips melded. 

In that moment, in that first millisecond, I knew there would never, ever be anyone else for me. Jonathan Archer was the only man for me, and I knew he felt the same way.

We fell back onto the blanket, kissing, stroking, and pressing up against one another. I was awash in a sea of consuming, aching passion. I had never felt this way before, and it was everything that my heart and soul needed. As much as my body was on fire for him, it was my heart that was leading the way. Jon was my other half. He was my forever. 

Jon pulled back just a bit and looked down into my eyes.

“Trip. I love you. We’ve waited so long. I don’t want to wait anymore.” 

I nodded, completely enraptured with his face and his words.

He smiled, tears glimmering in his eyes, and then pressed his forehead against mine. I had never seen him cry. He breathed out once, twice, and then pulled back again, his green eyes boring into mine.

“Charles Tucker the Third, I want to spend the rest of our lives together. I want us to build a life and a family together.” He gave me a blinding smile. “Will you marry me?”

I gasped, and then I gaped. We had barely kissed. We hadn’t had sex yet. We had been friends for many years, but that was different. He wanted to marry me? Really?

“Are you serious?” I choked out. “We haven’t even had sex!”

Jon laughed, his deep baritone voice gently booming in our fireside bubble. 

“Yes, I’m serious. Do you doubt that sex between us is going to be phenomenal? Because it you’re worried, I’ll be happy to assuage those fears right now.”

“Shut up,” I growled. “What if..I mean, what if..”

“Hush,” he whispered, leaning forward and kissing me firmly. My tongue shot out to caress his soft lips, and he groaned. “Trip, you don’t have to give me an answer right now, or even in the foreseeable future. However, the whole point about us not having had sex yet…that needs a more immediate resolution.”

“Promise me,” I said, licking the seam of his lips and sighing as he granted me access. 

“Anything,” he murmured. 

“We’re going to both hyphenate. Three kids and a dog. Maybe a cat. A big ole house on the coast. Half Moon Bay, maybe.”

“Deal,” he breathed into my mouth. “Charles Tucker-Archer the Fourth, or Charles Archer-Tucker the Fourth?”

“I like Tucker-Archer,” I said, pulling my lips away from his to nuzzle my way along his jaw and over to the soft spot behind his ear. Then, I licked a wet trail down the side of his neck, and he moaned deep in his throat. “And, Jon…”

“What?” he gasped, as my tongue slid further down, swiring against his collarbone, as my hand slid under his shirt to stroke his abs. He shuddered as I caressed each taut muscle.

I pulled back and looked up at him, my eyes shining with all the love and desire that I had for this man.

“Yes. I will marry you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans that don't want to be found, a sick dog, and some what ifs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this three months ago, but I couldn't post it. It turns out that sometimes life imitates art. Shortly after going off on the tangent with Porthos, which I had not planned, and writing this chapter, I found out that my puppy had osteosarcoma. In our world, it's always terminal. It is so rare at her age and in her breed that the vets caring for her had never seen it. With all of the uncertainty and watching her being in pain, I just couldn't post this. 
> 
> It's been a long, scary journey to get her treated, but she is currently cancer-free and part of a clinical trial. If we're lucky, we get to have her for another two years. If this experimental treatment does its job, we might get to have her for longer. Suffice it to say, I have an idea of how Jon feels.
> 
> I have most of the next chapter done, so I should be posting fairly soon.

Phlox frowned as he looked down at the growing specimen mounted under his microscope. This was a highly unexpected finding. Or, he mused, maybe not. Something had told him to surgically remove the tumor from Porthos’ leg instead of just destroying it in situ. He had cross-sectioned it and placed part of it in a dish to see what, if anything, happened. What had happened, to his joint excitement and concern, was that tumor, completely cut off from a blood supply or any other biological fuel, was continuing to grow.

After he had accepted the position as Chief Medical Officer onboard Enterprise, he had immediately educated himself about the health of everyone on board, including Porthos. His research about beagles had been disturbing. He was horrified to learn that the friendly, loyal breed had been used in medical and chemical experimentation almost fifty years into the 21st century despite there being other ways to test new substances and procedures. Denobulans had also done testing on other species indigenous to their planet, but it had been sparing and eradicated as soon as technology was created that could replace the living creatures. He could not imagine looking into such large, trusting, brown eyes such as Porthos’ and intentionally bring harm to that animal. 

The growing tumor in front of him made him very uneasy. Clearly, this was not the typical osteosarcoma. That meant that the typical treatment might not suffice. He pushed himself away from the microscope and went over to the comm where he composed a quick message to the captain, telling him that Phlox wanted to see Porthos for a follow-up visit after his treatment. No point in worrying the man just yet. Phlox had made sure to get the entire tumor and had verified with the scanner that no cancerous tissue remained in the leg. Nevertheless, he needed to make sure that the tumor was not re-growing.

Message sent, Phlox went back to the microscope and removed the tumor sample. While he waited to see Porthos, he would try some experiments on this tissue to see what else he could learn about it. 

Trip strode into their quarters to find Jon sprawled out on the bed reading a book.

“Hey,” he said as he started shucking off his uniform en route to the bathroom for a hot shower.

“Hey yourself,” Jon said, glancing up and then smiling broadly. “Come back here while you do that. You know I like to watch.”

Trip smirked at Jon and put a little extra shimmer and wiggle into disrobing before scooping up his clothes (lest Jon get in a snit about the mess) and sauntered into the bathroom, throwing a come hither look over his shoulder. He rather doubted that Jon would follow him. It was early evening, before dinner, and Jon had this weird thing about not wanting to shower and go out after they’d had sex. He’d been that way ever since they had started dating, and Trip just accepted it. 

As suspected, Jon let Trip finish his shower solo. Hair reasonably dried, Trip walked back out into their room and sprawled on the bed next to Jon, the damp towel wrapped around his waist.

“We eating in the Captain’s Mess tonight?”

“Mhm,” Jon said, putting down his book and running a finger along the lower part of Trip’s thigh. “T’Pol wants to brief us on this nebula we’re approaching. Apparently there are some anomalies she thinks Enterprise won’t handle well.”

Trip snorted. 

“Well, that’s par for the course.”

Jon’s finger slid beneath the edge of the towel and his green eyes slowly dragged their way up Trip’s body.

“I’m re-thinking that plan,” Jon said, his voice rough. “She could also brief us over breakfast.”

Trip scooted a little bit closer, his eyes dark with desire. He and Jon had always had a great sex life. Then, since the whole Xyrillian pregnancy thing their libidos had grown. He had put it down to the pregnancy hormones and Jon’s concern for him, but the pod and baby had been gone for a few days now and they were still ravenous for each other. If this was a lasting side effect of being pregnant, it would more than make up for the nausea, fear, and self-loathing he had endured.

“I think a breakfast report would be much more productive,” Trip murmured. He leaned forward and teased Jon’s lips, brushing against them oh-so-softly with his own. “We’ll be fresh and well-rested in the morning. Better able to absorb information, ya know.”

Jon hummed and pulled Trip flush against him. His pupils blown with desire.

“Fresh, yes. Well-rested? How much sleep do you need for that?”

Trip grinned against Jon’s mouth and gasped as Jon sharply nipped his bottom lip.

“Not much,” Trip whispered, his breath starting to come faster. “Especially if I’m all worn out when I fall asleep. I sleep so good then.”

“Well, then,” Jon said, nipping Trip’s lip again, “Let me—“

“Phlox to Captain Archer,” the comm blared, and they both started and slid back. Jon glared up at the comm unit, a thunderous scowl on his face. Trip smothered a laugh, but inside he was thrilled with how upset Jon was. Jon loved being Captain. He was damned good at it and was completely dedicated to this ship and its mission. But, when it came to personal time with Trip, all bets were off with Jon, and that pleased Trip to no end.

Jon sat up and punched the comm button.

“Archer here. Is there a problem, Doctor?”

“No,” the Denobulan said. His voice was even and non committal. He was normally cheerful, unless he had bad news. “I was just wondering when you were going to bring Porthos back for his post-procedure exam? I contacted you about it a few days after I removed the tumor, and several times since.”

Jon rubbed his hand over his face and sighed.

“I’m sorry. With all the focus on finding the Xyrillians and making sure Trip was healthy, I forgot. When would you like to see him?”

“Now would be good,” the doctor said. “Unless you are busy.”

Jon and Trip looked at each other. There was no question. They couldn’t focus on each other when Porthos needed to be seen.

“We’ll be right there, Archer out.”

They both got off the bed. Trip quickly changed into his civvies while Jon rounded up Porthos and his leash. The beagle bounced around in excitement, expecting a walk around the ship.

As they started towards sickbay, Trip glanced over at Jon. This was the first he had heard about Phlox wanting to see Porthos.

“So, what’s this visit for?” he asked. “You didn’t mention it to me.”

Jon shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable.

“He wants to double check that everything is okay post procedure. Since the cancer was kind of unusual, he wants to err on the side of caution.”

Trip frowned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were dealing with the pregnancy. I was cracking the whip trying to find the Xyrillians as fast as possible. I didn’t want to worry you, and then, I just sort of pushed it to the back of my mind.” He looked guilty at the last words.

Trip reached over and quickly squeezed Jon’s hand and releasing it before someone could see. 

“I appreciate you trying to take care of me, Darlin’, but I would rather you told me these things. We’re supposed to share stuff like this, remember?”

Jon nodded.

“I know. It’s just…you were going through so much, and I was so focused on finding that ship…it won’t happen again.”

“Thank you, “ Trip said, as they got into the turbo lift. “For wanting to protect me and for agreeing to loop me in next time.”

The doors slid closed and they leaned in for a gentle kiss.

“I love you,” Jon murmured.

“I love you,” Trip whispered.

Porthos yipped and they looked down at him sitting at their feet. They both laughed at the belligerent beagle who clearly felt he was being ignored.

“We love ya too, boy,” Trip said, kneeling down to scratch the pup’s ears. He looked up at Jon, his eyes twinkling. “You are our firstborn and all.”

Jon laughed and shook his head. He was so happy to have Trip back and healthy that he felt like his heart might explode. After so many years of guarding his feelings for this incredible man, and of maintaining a distance with most other people, being able to just embrace his feelings was so freeing. He was still captain, and that was his mindset in dealing with everything except Trip. And Porthos. Fur or not, he really was their kid. Jon tugged the blonde back to his feet and wrapped his arms around him for the rest of the ride. 

Phlox greeted them cheerfully enough, but Trip was certain something was up. The Denobulan was taking great pains to look at his patient and not at Jon or Trip. He fussed over the beagle, taking great care with his scans, chattering away at the dog who was soaking up the extra attention. When his exam was complete, Phlox went and retrieved some sort of ‘treat’ from his back room. On seeing Jon’s concerned look, Phlox assured him that it was perfectly safe for Porthos, and was, in fact, very nutritious.

After Porthos snarfed down the treat without bothering to chew, Phlox put the dog back down on the floor and removed a larger item from his pocket.

“It’s a very dense, protein-rich treat, designed to clean his teeth as he chews on it. I expect he will enjoy it.”

Porthos agreed. He took the treat with gusto, walked a few paces and then settled down to the serious business of chewing. The three men smiled at him and then looked up at each other. When Phlox’s eyes met theirs, Trip knew there was definitely something wrong.

“Gentlemen,” Phlox said, gesturing to a trio of chairs set up near his desk. “Shall we?”

Jon stiffened and shot Trip a worried look, which Trip returned. This was not going to be a casual chat.

Archer strode to the chairs, spun around and sat, his spine ramrod straight, his captain’s face on. The other two men sat, Trip closer to Jon, Phlox opposite both of them.

“What’s wrong?” Jon demanded. Trip reached over and grasped Jon’s hand. At least in front of Phlox they didn’t need to hide their relationship, and he could offer support to his husband. Jon’s fingers crushed Trip’s.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Phlox said, sighing. “When I removed the tumor from Porthos’ leg, I did so surgically. I could have disintegrated the tumor and expunged the residue without doing that, but because the tumor was unusual, I went in and removed it in whole. I made sure that there were no cancer cells behind, and I used the dermal regenerator to close the incision.” He took a deep breath, his startling blue eyes going to each mans’ in turn. “I also took sections of the tumor and placed them in various suspensions to see if anything would happen.”

He paused, and Trip’s gut tightened. This was worse that he had thought. Phlox continued.

“Despite being removed from a blood source or any other kind of biological fuel, the tumor continued to grow. I put other sections in increasingly hostile solutions, including several that typically kill cancer immediately. Those slowed the growth, but did not stop it.” He looked down at his scanner. “These scans just confirmed what I suspected. The tumor has re-grown in Porthos’ leg. The cancer has also spread.”

Jon shot out of his chair, his hand ripping away from Trip’s. He started pacing back and forth, raking his hand through his hair in agitation.

“You said this was a simple fix. That he would be okay! What changed?” He wheeled and stalked up to Phlox who was still sitting, looking up at his commanding officer with a calm and sad countenance.

“I don’t know,” Phlox said quietly. “I have been researching it since the tumor section started to grow. I’ve reached out to doctors and researchers at Starfleet and on many other worlds. New information is hard to come by. This cancer has been considered curable for hundreds of years. No one can explain why this instance is different.”

“Not acceptable,” Jon barked, glaring at his physician. “This can’t be the first time this has happened.”

“Actually,” Trip said hesitantly, glancing at Phlox for verification. “Has anyone ever taken a dog this far out into space?”

“The boomers have,” Jon answered shortly. “They allow pets on most of the ships.”

“True,” Phlox said. “But those trips can take anywhere from several months to several years with little to no exposure to alien microbes or environments. Boomers don’t explore. In fact, they avoid other species during a haul if at all possible. Enterprise is a ship of exploration. We’ve already encountered several species.”

Jon scowled.

“The Suliban. They’ve been all over this ship, and their time-traveling thing, that could also play into this, couldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Phlox nodded. “It’s as good a possibility as any other. I will look deeper into the Suliban. The ship was scanned after they boarded us and no pathogens were discovered, but this could be something we’ve never seen before.”

Jon threw himself back into his chair and Trip took his hand again. He could feel the slight tremor in Jon’s body. So soon after Trip’s first-time-ever male pregnancy this unusual cancer was a bit too much for the stoic Captain. 

“What now?” Jon demanded. “How do you treat this?”

“I will remove the tumor and eradicate the other cancer cells that are in his body. I will start him on a regimen of cancer-killing medications. I’ll need to see him every day to monitor his status while I continue to research sources and options.”

Jon swallowed hard and glanced away before pinning the doctor with a penetrating look.

“Is Porthos going to die?”

“I don’t know,” Phlox said softly. “I’ve never seen a cancer act like this. Obviously, it’s going to take a new approach to thwart this disease.”

“Is it gonna hurt him?” Trip asked, swallowing hard himself. “The treatments and the drugs; are they gonna hurt him?”

“Possibly,” Phlox said. “Most of these medications haven’t been used in decades and then only in far flung places that didn’t have access to modern technology. There are side effects, including nausea, exhaustion, weight loss, depleted red blood cells, and such. I’ll need to monitor him closely to make sure his other systems aren’t being affected too much.”

“So, he’s going to miserable?” Jon snapped. “You can keep him alive, but he’s going to be suffering?”

“I will do everything in my power to prevent that,” Phlox said, evenly. “Even if Porthos were not you and the Commander’s beloved pet, I would do whatever I could to make him comfortable while he fights this disease. But, I don’t want to lie to you, Captain. This is going to be hard on his body. If I can find another approach, I will use it. In the meantime, these medications and treatments are the only way to keep him alive.”

When they got back to their quarters neither one was interested in food or sex. They stripped and climbed into bed, wrapping themselves around each other. Porthos’ absence magnified the silence of the cabin. Even though they had adopted Porthos together, he was more Jon’s dog than Trip’s. The two had a special bond. Watching Jon with Porthos had been when Trip had known without a doubt that Jon would make a great father. He might not have much experience with human children, but he treated that puppy like a fragile newborn. Jon was going to fuss and fret over their children, and heaven help anyone who threatened their happiness. Jon in full Papa Bear mode was a sight to behold.

As they lay in the darkness entwined, Trip felt Jon’s hot tears drip into his hair. Trip knew how Jon thought. He was blaming himself for Porthos’ illness. If he had never adopted him, if he had never brought him on the ship, if he had not unknowingly exposed him to whatever was making him sick, then Porthos would be living happily on Earth without a care in the world.

Trip pulled Jon down and guided his husband’s head to his shoulder. Jon curled in against him, and Trip rubbed his back for several minutes before he spoke. 

“It’s not your fault, Darlin’. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s not. An’ thinking that Porthos would be better off somewhere else ain’t true. He’s got us and eighty other people on this ship that dote on him. Hell, even Chef likes him, and that man don’t like anyone. He sneaks his best cheddar to that dog along with that lactose med so Porthos don’t get sick.”

Jon’s head came up. Trip could only see his outline in the darkness, but he knew the red-rimmed green eyes were looking at him.

“He does?”

Trip chuckled. 

“Uh huh. So does Hoshi. And Cutler. And Travis is awful. He gives Porthos all kinds of treats. I’ve had to talk to him a couple of times so he’d knock it off. They all love the little guy. He brings a lot of comfort and happiness to this crew.”

Jon was quiet for a moment, his breathing uneven.

“Still,” he started, but Trip hushed him.

“Jon, we are out here doing things for the first time. We all knew the risks, and that includes knowin’ that there were risks to him, too. Now, I know you’re going to say that Porthos didn’t know those risks, but I’m here to tell you he wouldn’t care. He loves us. To him, we are his parents. If you could ask him right now, he’d tell you it’s worth it.”

Trip’s hand found its way to Jon’s chin and grasped it. Despite not being able to see Jon he pointed his eyes and voice at his husband’s face.

“This ain’t over, Jon. Phlox is going to help Porthos, and he’s going to find a cure. We will find an answer. Hell, I’m stubborn enough on my own, now you add your bull headedness, Phlox’s ‘I always find a solution’ confidence, and we’re all gonna wind up in the medical journals for solving a problem people didn’t even know existed.”

Jon’s forehead pressed against Trip’s shoulder and Trip leaned in and kissed it.

“Have some faith,” he whispered. “If not in Phlox or medicine, then in Porthos. That little fuzzball has a lot to live for.”

Jon chuckled weakly and then sank fully into the mattress, his head on Trip’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around Trip’s waist. Trip pulled Jon completely against him, his hand sliding over Jon’s side and hips, his legs twining with Jon’s. Jon let out a long sigh.

“Sleep,” Trip said, brushing his lips against Jon’s hair. “I’ve got ya, Darlin’.”

When they woke up the next morning the first thing Jon did was comm Phlox to check on Porthos. Reassured that the pup was resting comfortably after his procedure, Archer agreed to Phlox bringing the dog to his ready room by mid-morning.

After a lengthy and condescending (in Trip’s opinion) report from T’Pol over breakfast on why they should avoid the sighted nebula, Archer agreed to go over her numbers and make a quick decision. Trip winked at his husband before leaving the mess to head back to his engine. While he was not thrilled to have a Vulcan as Jon’s number one, the truth was he was glad it wasn’t him. He had enough to do and diplomacy was not his…strong point. 

Jon commed him right before lunch to say that Porthos was in the ready room and seemed good. Trip offered to bring them both lunch and stopped by the mess to fill up a couple of plates. As he walked in the door he saw Jon staring intently at his vid screen while gently rubbing Porthos’ ears. The dog woofed happily when he saw Trip, the white tip of his tail beating a staccato rhythm on Jon’s leg.

Jon smiled at him and let Porthos down. Trip set the plates on the table and crouched. He was pleased to see the beagle come to him easily, without any sign of pain or discomfort. He scooped up the dog and kissed him on the head, rubbing behind his ears as he stood behind Jon.

“That doesn’t look like a nebula to me,” Trip said. “I’m not an astrocartographer, or anything, but that looks a lot like a planet.”

Jon grinned up at him.

“It is. A minshara class planet. You may have heard of it; Terra Nova.”

“Everyone’s heard of Terra Nova. Why’re you lookin’ at it?”

Jon spun around in his chair and smiled up at his husband.

“Because, it just so happens that we are close to Terra Nova. This is a great opportunity to solve on of mankind’s biggest mysteries from the last 100 years.”

Porthos wriggled and Trip set him on the floor. He eyed the screen dubiously. They were here to explore and all, but from what he remembered, the settlers had made it clear that they didn’t want visitors from Earth. He wasn’t sure they were going to be welcomed.

Jon guided Trip over to the small table and they dug into their food. 

“Once we’re in range, T’Pol will scan the planet and see how many bio signs there are.”

“IF there are any,” Trip cautioned. “They could all be dead, Jon.”

“True, but there was extensive native flora and fauna on the planet. We should at least find them. If the settlers are gone, there will be the remnants of their colony.”

Trip shook his head.

“I can’t imagine wanting to do that. I’m all for getting out into space an’ explorin’ and all, but for them it was really a one-way trip. Nine years to get there, nine years to get back to Earth. Those people never saw their families again.”

“Not everyone has a big, loving family. If I remember correctly, the majority of the settlers had little family on earth. Most were younger, eager to explore, set down roots somewhere new. They were going to be pioneers; the first humans to live outside the Sol system.”

“Didn’t work out so good,” Trip noted. “At least, not from what we know.”

“And that’s about to change,” Jon smiled. “We’re going to find out what happened to those pioneers.”

Trip nodded, chewing contemplatively. He rolled his eyes as Jon fed a piece of his roast beef sandwich to Porthos who was sitting at his daddy’s feet, his big brown eyes doing their best to convey that poor Porthos was starving.

Jon looked up and caught Trip watching him and shrugged.

“He’s sick. A little extra TLC won’t hurt.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Trip replied. “But when he gets gassy or needs to go out for extra walks, that’s your job.”

“Aye, aye,” Jon said, eyes twinkling. “When we get to Terra Nova, I’ll be leading the away team. I’m taking T’Pol and Malcolm. You’ll have the bridge.”

Trip grinned and rubbed his hands together.

“Oh, it’s party time! The adults are away, and I have the keys to the car.”

“Just don’t scratch the paint,” Jon said, and they laughed together.

“Never did get those postcard photos,” Trip teased. “Although the mission is still young, so I’m holding out hope.”

Jon shook his head.

“Keep hoping, Commander. I have learned my lesson when it comes to you and pictures.”

It seemed that Trip had barely settled into the captain’s chair when the landing party was attacked and he was scrambling to learn the geography of the tunnels and caves below ground. He continued to collect info as Phlox went down planet and when Jon returned with two “Novans,” but no Malcolm. 

His guess that they settlers wouldn’t want visitors had not imagined them being violent, and he was horrified that Malcolm had actually been shot. The two scowling, paranoid individuals escorted to sickbay didn’t improve his opinion of the mission. 

When the captain had returned to the surface with the cured Novan mother and son, Trip had gladly returned to Jon’s quarters for a few minutes. He wasn’t really worried about Jon being down on the surface. The man could handle himself in just about any situation, and Trip needed to check on Porthos.

Said beagle was looking a bit down when Trip came into the room. He gently wagged his tail when Trip spoke to him, but did not get up from his cushion. Trip crouched in front of him and stroked the soft head. Porthos whined deep in his chest, and Trip immediately went to the comm.

“Tucker to Phlox,” he said, eyeing Porthos who had put his head down and closed his eyes. This was definitely not the usual boisterous, joyful dog they were used to.

“Phlox here,” the doctor replied.

“Hey, Doc, Porthos here isn’t doin’ too well. He’s just lyin’ on his cushion and whining. Don’t even wanna get up or play. He’s not even begging for food.”

“That is probably from the nausea and exhaustion from the new medications. I had a crewman leave some hyposprays on the captain’s desk. One spray from each should alleviate most of his symptoms. You can give them up to three times a day, if needed.”

“Okay,” Trip said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you need to see him again today?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Phlox said. “I will see him again in the morning for another treatment and to check on his status. In the meantime, try to encourage eating by mixing little treats into his food. No dairy. The last thing he needs right now is an upset stomach.”

“Got it. Thanks. Tucker out.”

Trip gave the dog both hypos and then mixed up Porthos’ food, adding in small bits of chicken that he had snagged from the mess on the way to the quarters. He was relieved to see Porthos watching him, the white tip of his tail beating faster and faster until it had become its typical blur.

“You hungry, buddy? This smell good? C’mon. Come and get it.”

Porthos leaped off his bed and galloped over to Trip, sitting obediently as taught to get his food. Trip placed the bowl on the floor and blew out a breath as the pooch dove into it. Okay, one piece of bad news avoided. Jon was already aggravated by the Novans refusal to admit their humanity or to believe that their lives were in danger. If Porthos wasn’t eating there was no knowing what the captain would do. 

Jon heaved a sigh as he stepped into his quarters. He was relieved that the Novans were safely moved to a new location. What had started out as an away mission gone badly wrong had ended up mostly positive. The Novans now had the technology to contact Earth, although there was no knowing if they ever would. Enterprise had solved a 70-year old mystery, and to top it off, Jon had gotten Travis to write the mission report. Not a bad ending if he did say so himself. 

Jon changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt and invited Porthos up on the bed with him. The beagle turned his required circles and then settled against Jon with a soft sigh. Jon’s fingers caressed the little dog as he skimmed through reports of all that had gone on during his absence downplanet. He was somewhat tired, but he wanted to wait up for Trip to get back from engineering. They’d barely had a minute together since he had gone down to the planet and he wanted to know how Trip was and if there was any news about Porthos. He sighed and focused on the PADD.

A touch feathered across Jon’s face and he slowly swam up to consciousness. He opened his eyes to find Trip sitting next to him, smiling and stroking Jon’s face and hair with the back of his hand.

“Hey sleepy,” Trip teased. “Exciting reading ya got there?”

Jon yawned and stretched.

“Fascinating. T’Pol’s theories on why Earth should or should not attempt to contact the Novans in the future is scintillating. Her opinions on their ‘societal regression’ is particularly interesting.”

“Ya see, that right there is why I have no desire to have my own ship. I’d sooner spend a day in the desert than read that kinda nonsense.”

Jon arched a brow at his husband.

“A day in the desert? Really? Because, as I recall, you really, really hated Alice Springs. I don’t think the reports are that bad.”

“Maybe not to you,” Trip said, stretching out on the bed. “But it sounds like torture to me.”

“You went through command school,” Archer admonished. “Got top marks, too. Hell, you’re the only commander on the ship. If something happens to me are you going to leave Enterprise at the mercy of a Vulcan?”

“First of all,” Trip said, staring down his lover. “Nothing is gonna happen to you. Secondly, T’Pol would be the one in command.”

“Technically,” Jon said. “And most likely only until she contacted Starfleet. At that point, they would probably assign you as captain.”

“No thanks,” Trip said. Jon laughed.

“C’mon, Trip. You took the training, got the rank. If Enterprise needed a new captain, you would be the best person for the job. If I didn’t think that, I wouldn’t have made you my first officer.”

“Jon,” Trip said, shaking his head again. “I appreciate your confidence in me, an’ you’re right that if I had to sit in the captain’s chair, I would. But I wouldn’t enjoy it. I’d do what I had to do to take care of Enterprise an’ everyone, but I wouldn’t keep the spot.”

Jon frowned.

“After all the hard work and years you’ve put into getting out here, you would just…walk away?”

Trip reached out and laced his fingers with Jon’s.

“If something happened to you, it would take everything I had just to get out of bed in the morning. I love being on Enterprise, being the chief engineer, and seeing all of our dreams coming true. But, without you, I wouldn’t stay. I couldn’t. If we don’t do this together, then I don’t want to do it at all.”

Jon squeezed his fingers.

“I have no intention of going anywhere, but if something did happen, I’d like to know that Enterprise would be in good hands. That’s you.”

“It would be me until they assigned a new captain. Robinson, Duvall, one of those other cocky pilots that can’t wait to get into that chair. They’d take care of her.”

“Not as good as you would,” Jon insisted. “Enterprise needs you.”

Trip leaned forward and gently kissed Jon.

“Enterprise needs us, and she’s got us, so let’s stop all this depressin’ talk an’ go to bed.”

Jon kissed him back.

“Aye, aye. Captain.”


End file.
